


The Lucky Clover

by SheilaWolfe



Category: Lackadaisy
Genre: F/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-23
Updated: 2012-12-23
Packaged: 2017-11-22 02:35:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/604860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheilaWolfe/pseuds/SheilaWolfe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Lackadaisy's last bootleg supply runs out, the dying business seems lost until Atlas May's niece, Missy, shows up from New Orleans with a solution. Meanwhile, the Marigold decides to shut down the Lackadaisy once and for all.</p>
<p>{This story takes place after the pages Balderdash (from Rocky and Freckle's point of view) and Mephistopheles (from Mitzy and Wick's point of view) and follows a different story line from there.}</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gumshoeing

The Silver Slipper, the crowning jewel of New Orleans herself. Just off the banks of the Mighty Mississippi, the popular dance hall saw crowds of visitors each night from up and down river. But not all of them were there to enjoy the music and share the latest dance moves.

Hidden in the basement was the city’s most popular and secluded speakeasy. Or so everyone thought. Only those with connections and familiar faces got through the hidden door. For Detective Jack McLoughlin, though, making friends with the right people and creating a false trust only took a matter of time.

After weeks of undercover snooping and investigating, Jack had found all he needed to know before the big bust. Well almost.

The hit men he’d originally been trailing were obviously tied to the Silver Slipper, all the other speakeasies in town were mysterious run out of business by dirty competition, but only rumors were known about the torpedoes. Cajuns, some said. Two of 'em, others whispered over empty whiskey glasses, brother and sister. Savoy was the only name he ever got from an old cat just before he passed out.

Savoy. Cajun siblings; brother and sister. His only lead. Taking a sip of water, the black feline glanced around the speakeasy. A Jazz band to one side with a bar selling its illegal product opposite, a few couples dancing the bunny hop and Charleston with frenzied feet. None of them knew what was about to happen. Jack checked his watch.

“They should be here just about…” he trailed off when the door burst open and cops flooded in. “Now.”

“Raid!” someone shouted obviously. Cats scattered left and right, looking for places to hide and exits to escape through. No use, though. Policemen were stationed at each door. The place was surrounded with no way to escape. In a matter of minutes, the Silver Slipper was locked down and all of its guests locked up.

“Good work, detective,” the police chief chuckled, patting his trench coated shoulder. “This should be a good feather in your cap.”

“Maybe,” he muttered skeptically, scanning his green eyes over the crowd. No hit men. They'd gotten away.

“Still after your Cajuns, huh?” the chief asked, “The Savoys wasn't it? Don’t bother, they skipped town last week.”

“Any leads?” McLoughlin asked from under his hat.

“Relentless as always,” the fat cop laughed. From within his inner pockets, the chief revealed an envelope. “We tracked them up river.”

“You sure?” the detective asked, taking the files hesitantly.

The older cat just nodded. “Some time after your Cajun friends skipped town, similar killing started up in St Louis. I think it’s safe to assume they found another employer.”

Jack scanned the reports quickly then tucked them in his own pockets for safekeeping.

“So what you think?” the chief asked, already knowing the answer.

“I think I’ll taking a trip up to St. Louis real soon,” the dark cat smiled, emerald eyes gleaming with anticipation.


	2. Orleanian

It was a slow Monday morning for the Little Daisy Café. Only a few of their regulars had come in for coffee and breakfast before starting the day. Ivy sat behind the counter, smoothing her yellow dress and wishing for something interesting to happen. Sunlight gleamed in through the front large windows, giving the small café a cheerful glow. It was a warm spring day that hinted coyly to a sweltering summer to come. Ivy was looking forward to it and was in high hopes that she would get to spend her summer break in St. Louis.  
The small bell above the door jingled and the young cat glanced up to see a gray tabby trudge in.

“Good mornin’, Miss Pepper,” Rocky greeted in his Irish tinged brogue. Despite his usual Cheshire grin, Ivy could see he was exhausted.

“Rough night?” she asked as he took a seat. Without a word, the gray tabby let his face smack onto the counter. “That bad huh?”

“And how,” he agreed, lifting his head just enough to rest his chin on the tabletop. “I’m wore out and Freckle’s just about dead on his feet. I dropped him off and told him to meet me here later after he caught a few Z’s.”

Setting some coffee by Rocky’s whiskers, Ivy leaned over the bar. “No word on what happened to Captain Kehoe the other night?” she whispered, not wanting the elderly couple across the café to hear.

“Actually we found out the fuzz caught him.” Rocky answered sadly. “They searched his boat so it’s no surprise that he’s in the big house now.”

“No way!” Ivy gasped. “You don’t think he may…”

“Nah,” Rocky shook his head, “I know the captain. He wouldn’t rat us out cause he got caught. Our real problem now is trying to find a new supply.”

“Well that can’t be too hard, can it?” The weary look on his face was answer enough.

“We’ve tried everywhere but either its too expensive or we get chased off by competition. Last night we had a close run in with some rather touchy competitors.” He shuttered. Ivy’s ears perked curiously.

“Do I want to know?” the smoky brown cat asked hesitantly.

“Let’s just say Viktor is not going to be happy to see the truck,” Rocky commented briefly, tugging at the sleeve of his blue suit. 

“Alright well what are we going to do?” Ivy asked, her yellow eyes pondering the window for an answer. “We’re almost out of whiskey, the Lackadaisy is already on its last leg and Miss M hasn’t come down in days.” 

Ever since Captain Kehoe’s no show a few nights earlier, Miss M had gone into her apartment above the café and refused to leave for anything or anyone.

“Don’t worry!” Rocky cried dramatically, his sapphire eyes glittering with emotion. “I won’t give up! Don’t worry Miss M, you can count on me!” His outburst drew the attention of the other customers and Ivy had to shove the gray tabby back onto his stool. 

“Will you stop making a scene,” she hissed under her breath. Rocky just raised his giant eyebrows in confusion.

Their whispered conversation was cut short by the ringing of the door. They turned to see a girl dressed in a lady’s suit of cool blue by the entrance. She was a pretty cat, about Ivy’s age, with chestnut brown fur decorated with dark swirls. Short chocolate curls shown beneath her blue hat decorated with a single orange flower. At her knee sat a traveling suitcase. Instead of taking a seat, though, the stranger glanced around the café with searching hazel eyes.

“Welcome to the Daisy Café,” Ivy called, drawing the marbled tabby’s attention. 

The girl walked over and gave a shy smile. “Thank you. I wasn’t sure I was in the right place.” She had a southern accent with a hint of what may have been Cajun.

“You lookin’ for someone, ma’am?” Rocky asked, following the girl’s example and glancing around.

“Yes. I’m meeting a Miss Mitzi May. She’s supposed to be expecting me.”

“You’re here to see Miss M?” The marble nodded at Ivy before extending her hand.

“How rude of me, I should have introduced myself earlier. I’m Missy Burke. Just off the Sunshine Express from New Orleans.”

“New Orleans? Wow!” Ivy gushed, taking Missy’s paw. “I’m Ivy Pepper. And that’s-”

“Roark Rickaby at your service,” the striped cat interrupted, taking his hat off and giving a dramatic bow. “My friends call me Rocky though,” he added with a sly wink.

“A pleasure to meet you both,” Missy chuckled.

“So what brings you to St. Louis, Miss Burke?” Rocky asked, taking a seat on his stool again.

“Let’s just say I may be able to help with your recent troubles.”

“Troubles? What troubles?” Ivy asked as Rocky sipped his steaming coffee.

Missy leaned in and whispered, “Concerning the Lackadaisy.”

Hot coffee was spewed across the counter while Ivy could only stare in shock. The other customers glanced their way but didn’t seem to understand what was happening.

“You know about the Lackadaisy?” Rocky finally choked out, dabbing hot coffee off his lucky tie.

“Perhaps this business would best be discussed else where?” Missy hinted quietly, raising her eyebrows towards the café’s curious occupants.

“Right you are!” Rocky cried loudly, grabbing a still stunned Ivy and Missy by the elbows and leading them towards the door.

~x~

Miss M’s office was cozy with its leather chairs, large mahogany desk, and windows open to the fresh spring air. A portrait of the late Atlas May hung on the wall, observing the room below with a composed expression. Perched on the desk, Miss M was reading over an open letter and sipping whiskey from a short glass. With a sigh, she tossed the paper aside and glanced at the clock.

The silence was broken, though, by a volley of knocks threatening to break her door down.

“Yes?” she called, taking a sip of whiskey.

“Miss M?” Rocky asked, cracking the door open and peeking around the corner.

“Oh Rocky. Come on in.” With a shove, he rushed into the room, trailing a pair of unhappy cats in his wake.

“Was that really necessary, Rocky?” Ivy asked, attempting to smooth her short bob.

“Well well, look what the cat dragged in,” Miss M drawled in her sugary accent. Missy straightened her hat and turned to face the white cat.

“Miss Mitzi May?” she asked, hoping her search was over.

“Mitzy's fine, dear. And you must be Miss Burke.” With a small smile, she poured another shot of whiskey and handed it to the younger cat.

“You can call me Missy,” she answered, taking the tumbler with a nod.

“Excuse me, Miss M?” Rocky interrupted politely, wringing his hat. “Pardon me but this girl seems to know about our, um…” he cleared his throat awkwardly before continuing, “other business,” he finally completed with a shrug.

“Of course she does, sweetie,” Miss M confirmed. “She’s our new supplier.”

Rocky spluttered, unable to form real words while Ivy waved her arms frantically. “Okay time out! Now I’m confused.”

With a sigh, Miss M gestured to the chairs in front of the desk. “Perhaps I should start over.”


	3. Accommodation

"You see, a few weeks back I got this letter,” Miss M started, gesturing to the open paper on her desk, “from Atlas’s sister in New Orleans, Gladys. She and her husband, Artie, run a business of their own downriver selling bootleg to the local speakeasies.”

“Wait, Gladys?” Ivy asked, looking over at the brown tabby. “I thought you said your name was Missy.”

“Oui,” she nodded. “Gladys is my mother.”

“Your Atlas May’s niece?” Rocky exclaimed, awestruck by the idea.

“I thought you wanted to hear the story,” Miss M interrupted, taking another sip of gin. Silence filled the room and she continued.

“Their usual customers were ratted out and they didn’t have anyone to sell to so they sent me a proposition. She had heard of the Lackadaisy’s fall in reputation and offered to help. Naturally, I thought it over for a while but decided to call after the Captain’s disappearance-”

“We found out that Captain Kehoe was caught by the law, Miss M,” Rocky cut in. His boss just nodded in response.

“I thought as much. It’s a good thing Missy got here so fast then. Starting today, she will responsible for arranging transactions on the river. She’ll also help with the deliveries and runs.”

“Wait,” Ivy’s ears perked excitedly, “She’s going to be staying here in St Louis to help out?”

“Yes,” the white cat answered, earning a happy giggle from her goddaughter. “She’ll be staying with me for a while. Hopefully with her help, the Lackadaisy will get some decent business again.” With a sad sigh, the southern belle glanced at her late husband’s portrait before turning back to her audience.

“Well I guess that’s enough for one morning. Missy, I’ll show you to your room and let you get settled in. Later, Rocky can give you the tour and you can meet everyone else. And Ivy, weren’t you supposed to be watching the café?”

“Oops!” the girl gasped. “I’ll see you later Missy!” she cried, rushing out the door and down the stairs.

“Alright, I’ll leave you ladies alone then. See ya tonight.” With a big grin and a tilt of his hat, the gray tabby took his leave.

“This way, sweetie,” Miss M directed, strolling out of the office and down the hall to a door at the end. Behind it was a small but comfortable guest room complete with a vanity, newly made bed, and window with a lovely view. Another door to the side revealed a private bathroom, sparkling and stocked for its guest.

“Wow,” Missy gasped, amazed by the enchanting room.

“Make yourself at home, dear,” Miss M smiled as she turned to leave.

“Thank you. For everything.”

“Not a problem, dear,” she heard as the door swung shut behind the fluffy tail.

Returning to the study and taking a seat on the desk’s polished surface, Miss M sighed again and glanced at the painting.

“I hope I’ve done the right thing, dear,” she whispered, searching Atlas’s eyes for a hint of agreement.

~

Later that night, Missy made her way down the stairs and into the Little Daisy Café alone. Miss M had politely declined accompanying her, insisting she had work to do, but told Missy to run along and enjoy herself.

A sign in the window proclaimed the café to be closed but a small group of people inside proved otherwise. She recognized Rocky and Ivy but there was a third person among them she had not met yet. Ivy was hanging on his arm and Rocky seemed to be zealously teasing them about it.

“Salut,” she greeted casually, slipping through the door. Ivy instantly gave a girly shriek and ran to hug her.

“There you are!” Missy’s ears flattened at the sudden shout but she couldn’t avoid Ivy’s enthusiastic embrace. “Took ya long enough. Come on, I’ll give you the tour.”

Missy just chuckled nervously at Ivy’s outburst and allowed herself to be dragged over to the others.

“Jeez, Miss Pepper,” Rocky laughed, leaning against the bar with a carefree ease. “Just rip her arm off, why don’t cha?”

Ivy just stuck her tongue out in a very mature fashion. “Do you know how long I’ve waited for another girl to talk to? I can’t exactly tell my friends at school about the Lackadaisy; well, not much anyways. All I have is you two and Viktor and that gets old, fast.”

“And here I thought I was your best friend,” Rocky feigned insult, placing a paw dramatically over his chest before dissolving into snickers. “Besides, what about Miss M? Can’t she accommodate to your ‘lady talk’ needs?”

The girl rolled her eyes. “Miss M’s fine and all but she doesn’t exactly do girl chat. I can’t talk with her about fashion or new hair styles or boys. Missy here is my new girly friend.” Ivy gave her new friend a grateful smile and gestured around them. “This is the café, of course you’ve already seen it. And that’s Rocky, you’ve already seen him too. And this is his cousin, Freckle.”

Next to Rocky stood an orange tabby, looking awkward and shy in his green pin stripes. When he heard his name, he turned and met her gaze with large orange eyes before quickly glancing down, his ears and tail twitching bashfully.

“This is Miss Burke, Miss M’s niece from New Orleans. She’ll be working with us from now on.”

“Call me Missy,” she insisted, putting her hand out to shake his.

He was young, maybe her and Ivy’s age, and looked like a nice guy, maybe a little too nice to be in the business. But she quickly pushed her doubt away. Never judge a book by its cover. She was sure there was a reason he was on the team other than his good looks.

“Calvin,” he corrected in a quiet Irish brogue similar to Rocky’s but more pronounced and soft spoke. He shook the offered hand politely. “Nice to meet you.” In a flash, Ivy had released Missy and was hanging off his arm again and, leaning towards the new girl with lamp like yellow eyes.

You still have to meet Viktor!”

Rocky visibly recoiled, his eyes widening and smile gone. “I thought the Doc said he was supposed to rest for at least another week!”

“You know Viktor, stubborn as a mule.” Ivy shrugged. “I told him that as long as he took it easy he didn’t have to stay home. He should be out in the garage. Come on!”

“Uh, do we have to?” Rocky asked, tugging at his tie anxiously.

“Oh Rocky, I’m sure he’s not too mad about the truck,” Ivy comforted, leading the group out the door and down the dark alleyway next to the café. “Besides, if he is, just stand behind me and you won’t get hurt too bad.”

This didn’t seem to ease the troubled tabby and made Missy nervous about entering the eerie garage ahead of them. Before she could object, though, Ivy was dragging what Missy could only guess as her boyfriend through the side door, leaving Rocky and Missy to follow as they pleased.

“Ladies first,” Rocky offered weakly. With a roll of her eyes, Missy strolled into through the door, her cowardly companion creeping in behind her.

Across the concrete floor, a giant red cat was working on a truck that looked as if it had seen better days. One of the tires was completely gone and two of the others were flat. Bullet holes speckled the side and back of the black paint. Most of the windows had not survived.

“Oh my...,” Missy gasped, studying the damage with wide hazel eyes. Competition was tough upriver, that was for sure.

“You should see the other guys,” Rocky chuckled but instantly fell silent when the big guy noticed them. He had an eye patch but he only needed one brilliant green eye to glare them all into submission. Well, all accept Ivy.

“Now Viktor,” she started, giving a stern look that almost looked comical on her usually cheery face.

“No ‘Naow Viktor’, I kill idiot _naow_!” Even in his thick Slovak accent, it was easy to detect his anger. “I tell that idiot not to take de truck but he took it anyvay and naow look.

Rocky yelped and jumped behind Freckle for protection even though he was a good few inches taller than his cousin. The orange cat didn’t seem so thrilled to be a body-shield and glanced back at Rocky in betrayal. Missy’s tail bristled in fear at the giant lumbering towards them. Tucking a dirty rag in the left pocket of his faded overalls, he produced what looked to be a wrench from the right. After seeing the truck, though, Missy could hardly blame him for being mad.

“Just calm down. You can kill him later. Right now you be on your best behavior to meet someone.”

Ivy pointed at Missy and instantly the single green eye flashed at her. Under his piercing gaze, her ears flattened and whiskers drooped. She cleared her throat quietly and gave a nervous smile.

“This is Miss M’s niece from New Orleans, Missy Burke. She’s going to be our new supplier so be nice,” Ivy warned.

“Hello,” Missy squeaked. There was a moment of silence as he studied her. Suddenly, his hand rose up and she flinched.

"Nice too meet you,” he growled, patting her head with a heavy paw. It messed up her brown curls and misplaced her hat but she wasn’t going to complain.

“You too,” she replied in relief.

“Great now that that’s settled let’s move on,” Rocky declared in a trembling voice. He made for the cellar door but didn’t get far. The angry Slovak caught him by the back of the shirt and held the skinny gray cat aloft.

“Look vhat you do to my truck!” he shouted in Rocky’s ear. Rickaby cringed and thought fast on his feet while dangling in the air.

“Don’t look at me! It wasn’t like I was the one who shot it. Blame the guys chasing us last night. We’re lucky we got it back in one piece.”

With an annoyed sigh, Viktor released the tabby and crossed his arms. “You no use my truck if come back like dis. Next time, you fix it.”

“Sure thing,” Rocky agreed, still curled on the ground. “I’ll be more careful. Bring it back better than new. No problem.” With a roll of his eye, the russet cat turned away, leaving Rocky relieved he had survived with all of his limbs intact.

“Come on, I’ll show you down stairs,” Ivy urged, seeming uninterested by the squabble. The brown cat dragged her companions to the cellar and flung open the wood door to reveal a set of stairs descending into darkness.

“Oi,” Viktor called from the truck, “Take the flashlight and be careful, dievka.”

“Alright,” the girl called back, leading the way down into the gloom.


	4. Raconteur

The stairs ended at the edge of a long hall of limestone. Following the dim beam of the flashlight, the four cats proceeded down the corridor, keeping close to one another. It was warm and muggy and the air pressed in around them like a humid blanket. Over the shuffling of their feet, a distant dripping of water echoed through the cave with a continuous ping.

“Usually we have it lit up down here but since we don’t have any customers tonight it would just waste electricity. I’ll hit the lights once we get inside. Ow! Jeez, Rocky, that was my foot.”

“Sorry, Miss Pepper,” he apologized, “I just don’t like it when it’s dark down here. Rather spooky place, ya know? I reckon there’s more than a few ghosts wandering down here.”

“Please tell me he is kidding,” Missy whispered, keeping her voice low from any ears lurking in the dark.

"Not at all. Lots of poor souls have passed away down here under unfortunate circumstances. Well, some not so unfortunate. In fact, a few weeks ago we had a bit of a raid down in these caverns and three pig farmers got iced-”

“Do we really need to talk about this?” Calvin’s voice cut in, quiet but sharp.

"Pig farmers?” Missy questioned, glancing in the general direction of the cousins’ faces.

“Let’s just say bootlegging is a very competitive business,” Rocky concluded. “It wasn’t our first run in, though, and it undoubtedly won’t be our last. You saw the truck yourself, Miss Missy. And that was just last night! We were only able to get back ‘cause of-”

Freckle’s voice interrupted again. “Rocky, can we _really_ not talk about this?”

“If you insist, cousin. You don’t have to be such a wet blanket ‘bout it. Those rubes had it coming. Deserved everything they got if you ask me. Lousy pig farmers. They tried to nail me to a train track!” In the dim light, Missy could see him flailing his arms in emphasis.   
  
She decided it was probably best not to question what pig farmers and train tracks had to do with bootlegging.

“Please, Rocky, there’s no such thing as ghosts,” Ivy argued though the quiver in her voice didn’t sound too convincing.

“You don’t know that, Miss Pepper. There could be one here right now, waiting to spring at the right time.”

“Whatever.” Ivy rolled her yellow eyes. But Rocky wasn’t done yet.

“Watching,” he continued, narrowing his eyes and glancing side to side dramatically. “Just waiting for the right moment to jump out and yell _BOO_!”

“AAAH!” the girls screamed at once. Ivy leaped back and dropped her flashlight, plunging the group in darkness. Missy stumbled and collided heavily with the person behind her.

“Vhat is going on?” she heard a voice bark in the gloom. With a loud click, the lights around them flashed on, temporarily blinding everyone. Down the hall and approaching fast was Viktor, not looking too happy. It was becoming a very permanent look for him.

He glanced over at Ivy clinging to Rocky’s jacket while the idiot tabby just cackled over his practical joke. Freckle looked a bit ruffled but was recovering quickly. In his arms was Missy, caught during her fall and still in shock.

“Vhat happened?” Viktor sighed, seeing no one was hurt.

“Rocky thought it would be funny to tell ghost stories in the dark,” Ivy exclaimed, punching Rickaby in the shoulder. “You bimbo.”

“Hey, who doesn’t like a good scary story?” he asked, rubbing his arm. “Besides, you’re the one who dropped the flashlight.”

Having gotten over the scare, Freckle helped Missy back to her feet. “You okay?”

“Other than a minor heart attack, I’m fine. Nice catch by the way,” she smiled. This caused the orange cat’s tail to bristle and he glanced away, embarrassed.

“No problem.”

Just then, Rocky suddenly appeared between them, a mischievous grin plastered on his face.

“Aw isn’t that cute,” he mocked, making kissy faces at them. “You two snugglin’ in the dark. Want me to hit the lights again?”

“I just fell,” Missy objected, crossing her arms.

“Sure. A convenient fall, eh?” he hinted, nudging her with his elbow. With an annoyed huff, Missy turned away and strolled over to where Ivy was talking with Viktor. As she walked, Rocky studied her like a critic admiring a work of art.

“Not bad, McMurray,” he muttered, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “Got yourself a nice doll there and she’s only been in town a few hours. I’m impressed.”

“W-what?” he younger cousin spluttered, having no idea what Rocky was talking about.

“Oh come on. You and Miss Burke there taking advantage of the dark. You cad. Better be careful, though. Don’t know if Miss Ivy’s going to enjoy the competition.”

Before Calvin could argue, Rocky had leapt back to the rest of the group. “We gonna keep this little tour group movin’ or what?”

“You’re staying in front this time,” Ivy grumbled, shoving his shoulders from behind.

The others followed until the tunnel opened into a large empty cavern. There was a loud click as Viktor hit another switch and the remaining darkness was banished.

Gold light fixtures illuminated the once ordinary gray cave. Marble support columns stood in rows, reaching from the tall ceiling to the carpeted red floor below. Between them were velvety gambling tables and a space set aside for dancing. To the left, an elegant stage was set up for the band with lounge chairs arranged about the floor. On the opposite side of the room sat the bar, its once fully stocked shelves looking bare and dusty.

“Wow,” Missy gasped, hearing her voice echo back in the empty space. As the group ventured inside, she could see the Lackadaisy clover displayed proudly on the back wall. In all, it was an astonishing sight that left her speechless.

“So what ya think?” Ivy asked, skipping further into the room with an eager grin.

“It’s amazing,” the tabby breathed after a moment, walking slowly to follow the other cat, glancing this way and that with each step.

“It’s a lot nicer when there’s a crowd.” Ivy frowned at her own words before taking a seat on the bar. Viktor stalked around to stand on the other side, watching the small company with his arms crossed.

“Don’t worry,” Missy encouraged. “As soon as we start getting regular shipments up here, customers are sure to follow. Just watch, soon we’ll have this place swinging bigger and better than ever.”

“Speaking of which, Miss Burke,” Rocky cut in, raising a hand for her attention. “When _are_ the shipments supposed to start?”

The new supplier turned to him with a sly grin. “Tomorrow at midnight; east riverbank. You boys think you’ll be ready?”

“Yes ma’am!” the gray tabby saluted dramatically. An elbow to his cousin coaxed a small nod from the quiet cat.

“Good. Miss M said she’ll be coming to make sure everything runs smoothly. Pick us up a quarter to twelve and we’ll see how it goes.”

“What about me?” Ivy piped up. “I want to go!”

“Well, Miss Pepper, I don’t think it would be wise for you to go. It’s dangerous,” Rocky tried to convince her but Ivy wasn’t buying it.

“Missy’s gonna be there. So is Ms. M. Besides if we run into trouble, Freckle will protect me, won’t you?” she asked, latching onto Calvin’s arm again. He shied away from her embrace, trying to put some space between him and the clingy cat.

“Well yeah…uh…I guess…” he mumbled, glancing around nervously for an answer.

“And wouldn’t be oh so sad if he got shot because you were distracting him,” Rocky sighed, wiping a fake tear from his eye. “Oh how tragic. And all because you wouldn’t listen to us.”

Ivy rolled her yellow eyes. “I’m better with a gun than you are, Rickaby. Remember what happened last time?” She gestured to his nicked ear.

The cat groaned dramatically and flailed his arms. “It was one time!”

~

It was already late evening by the time the boat finally pulled up to the St Louis dock. Grabbing his luggage, McLoughlin quickly followed the other passengers to solid ground. As he separated from the crowd, a brown and white tabby in a police uniform spotted him and waved him over.

“Mr. McLoughlin?” the officer asked as the detective joined him.

Jack gave him a skeptical look. “That’s me. And you are?”

“Officer Abe Davis at your service, sir.” Giving McLoughlin a quick handshake, he took the suitcase and stowed it in the waiting car. “The chief sent me to pick you up. Said you might be tired after your trip so he’ll talk to ya first thing tomorrow. ‘Til then, there’s a nice hotel just down the street from the station you can stay at and get some shut eye.”

“Sounds nice,” the black cat mused as they both stepped into the car, “but I would prefer to get started immediately.”

Officer Davis looked at a loss for a moment. “So…to the station then?” he eventually asked.

Jack nodded, his green eyes gleaming with a small grin. “Good plan, Abe.


End file.
